


We’ve Taken Different Paths

by seeyounextfall



Series: There’s No “Robin” Time [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Just two bat bros bonding idk, Mentions of Dick!Bats and his run with Damian, abuse of italics and the word “robin”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:19:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeyounextfall/pseuds/seeyounextfall
Summary: There are three defining moments of every Robin’s life:1) When they become Robin,2) When Robin is taken from them,and 3) When a Robin becomes someone new.It shouldn’t be a surprise that Damian isn’t an exception.





	We’ve Taken Different Paths

**Author's Note:**

> Title and included lyrics from “Brother” by Kodaline, which gives me lots of Dick Grayson feels and vaguely inspired this.
> 
> This takes place a few years in the future, with everyone a bit older.

_“We’re living different lives_

_Heaven only knows,_

_If we’ll make it back_

_With all our fingers and our toes..._

_I’ve got you brother.”_

_~Brother_  (Kodaline)

 

The rapping of a fist against the door shakes Dick out of the slow decent into sleep. He rubs at his eyes, glancing towards the clock of the cable box. It reads, “3:00 AM”, in bright red and Dick can’t really recall who’d be knocking on his _door_ at this time. Whether it’s being a Bat or a Wayne, he isn’t sure, but he recalls everyone having a preference for the window by the fire-escape.

The knocking repeats, pulling Dick out of his train of thought. Yawning, he continues his venture through the apartment. He looks through the peephole, only to find one Damian Wayne staring back. The younger man’s arms are crossed and there’s a scowl set upon his face. Dressed in a hoodie and sweats, he appears as nothing unusual for the typical cold and biting winter. Nothing seems wrong, but it’s also three o’clock on a Saturday morning and Dick can’t remember the current Robin mentioning his visitation.

“Tt. Grayson, I’d prefer to speak to you without a lousy piece of wood separating us,” travels through the door.

“Right,” Dick smartly replies and proceeds with pulling the door open.

Damian enters the apartment with a grunt and moves to sit on his brother’s sofa. The only light comes through from the descending moon and the flickering lamps adorning the streets. It casts Damiain in a yellow glow, creating a picture of contrasting youth and age. Where the softer features of his face are made lighter, the harsher scars and dark spots are highlighted as well. Dick is reminded of how young Damian used to be, but also of the varying things Damian still seems too young to have seen.

He shakes himself awake, again, knowing that he has to be here and focused for whatever has caused this early-morning visit. Dick moves to turn on the lights, but before he can reach them, Damian voice cuts quiet, but sharp,

“Don’t.”

Schooling the surprise into a roll of his shoulders, he aborts his previous movement. He studies his youngest brother as he seats himself next to Damian on the couch. Damian’s eyes never stray from the steady blinking of the clock, leaving Dick time to catalogue his body language.

His arms are tense, though openly resting upon his thighs while he leans forward, as if trusting Dick enough to feel safe, but never unprepared. Damian’s breathing is steady, nothing stuttered or purposefully long, and there’s no guilt to be read in the way he carries himself. He’s steady and cautiously trusting, something Dick can’t really place as abnormal. In all the time he’s known him, Dick can only reason that Damian’s presence here, at this time, _is_ the red flag.

Running through a list of possible scenarios, he’s left just as in the dark as before. Dick, though, knows all the Bats enough to reason that maybe, it’s about being there, together, and if there’s more they need, they’ll let him know. At the thought, he breathes deeply and moves his gaze to follow Damian’s at the clock. The time serves as a rock, grounding them both in the quiet moment. The only thing Dick can sense is the soft exhales of Damian’s breath and the distant, and busy, street below.

Dick’s mind, against his best efforts, travels back to the infinite possibilities of the night that would’ve led to this moment... And once again, he’s lost. The first worry is that someone has died. Dick reasons he would’ve heard sooner, at least within the time it would take for Damian to travel from the Manor. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been left out of the loop, his brain bitterly supplies.

Regardless, the atmosphere lacks the dense weight of death, the thickness in the air of loss and guilt.

If anything, it’s a belated mourning. The hollow feeling in your chest when you’re reminded of a person who isn’t there anymore. The pause in life as your brain catches up with reality, leaving you, if only for a second, greeting a missing face in a vacant room. The ugly feeling when something catches you by surprise, no matter how long you were expecting it. Dick wonders if that’s it— if someone, by some feat, knocked Damian off his feet with a blow he saw coming.

The clock reads, “3:27 AM”, when Damian moves. It’s slow, a bit hesitant, even, as he turns his head to face his older brother. Dick meets his gaze with a questioning lift of an eyebrow.

“I,” a pause. Damian looks down to his hands for a moment and Dick restrains his first instinct to touch, to hold, to physically comfort.

“He,” Damian begins again, “Father, he,” another pause.

When Damian looks back up, there’s a sadness in his eyes that Dick didn’t see before. A watery and clouded emotion, like car windows after driving through a rainstorm. It leaves an odd feeling in Dick’s stomach and his brain is reaching for a memory, but can’t quite place it.

“He wishes to retire Robin.”

And, oh, now Dick knows the feeling.

He recognizes the tightness of words caught in his throat. The need to say something, but wondering if there will ever be words comforting enough. He knows the overwhelming anger that is squeezed in his fist, as if he could compress his rage into something small enough to be ruled benign. The aching in his chest, is nothing but familiar, and for not the first time, a small piece of him smiles because he’s not the only one to have had a child’s mask and cape ripped away.

Dick finds himself hating that piece of him a little bit more than the rest.

Still, he lets the emotions slip to the back of his mind. He needs to think clearly and put his brother’s feelings first. Right now, it’s about doing his job and providing comfort, because what else can he do? Anger never got Bruce to give Dick back Robin, why would it get Bruce to let Dick give Robin back to Damian?

“What happened?” He questions, carefully raising a hand to rest on Damian’s shoulder.

“Tt. What do you think?” Damian levels the other with a look. “Father told me that he does not wish to have a Robin anymore. I believe he spoke something along the lines of, ‘You’ve grown past being Robin. It has nothing to do with your abilities, it’s just I feel that you need more than what being Robin can give you.’”

Damian is still staring at Dick, except now it feels like he’s looking for all the answers that Dick doesn’t have. His throat feels tighter and he squeezes his eyes shut, the pleading in Damian’s eyes being too much because Dick has no idea how to do this. He’s experienced Robins no longer being Robin, he’s been on both sides of the conversation. He’s never been here, though. Jason, Tim, Stephanie... Their transitions from Robin to who they are now happened outside of Dick’s knowledge. He doesn’t know how or when they came to the decision, just that one day people returned different to who they used to be.

Now, Damian’s looking for something, whether it’s guidance or someone to deny the reality of the situation at hand, and Dick’s clueless about what to do.

He opens his eyes to find Damian’s, wet with unshed tears, but gaze unwavering. Damian softly speaks, “If I am not Robin, who am I left to be?”

Dick moves to speak, but shuts himself down just as quickly, rethinking what he’s going to say. He doesn’t want to lie to Damian, he knows he can’t promise that it’s easy, that tomorrow Damian will suddenly understand his place in the world. Yet, Dick wants to protect. He wants to shield Damian from the reality facing them both. He wants to go back and take Robin away from all of them because of all the good it’s done in their lives, is all the bad really outweighed? In moments like these, Dick can’t help but regret this _legacy_ he’s left behind, because he’s never seen enough good and he doesn’t know how Damian will end up after this.

Dick sighs, “I don’t know who you’ll become, but, I swear, you’ll figure it out.”

It might’ve not been the right answer, as Damian turns away with a shake of his head, “Maybe that is the problem. Perhaps, I do not wish to be anything but Robin.”

“Dami...” He says, trying to get the other to face him again. “We– We’re all meant grow past Robin at some point.”

“No!” Damian’s glaring at Dick now. “No! You might have— Drake and Todd and Brown, they all might have— but, I... I...”

The tears start then and, surprisingly, Damian leans forward and pulls Dick towards him. Dick wraps his arms around the shaking boy and gently strokes his back. Quiet sobs are muffled by his chest and Dick can barely make out the flurry of words coming from the other. He rests his head upon the other’s and just prays that, for once, everything will work out okay.

Damian’s shaking reminds Dick of the other Robins. It pulls flashes of Tim’s face when he chose Damian instead. It echoes the way, “Replacement,” rolls off Jason’s tongue. The shaking reminds Dick of his own tears, his own nights spent wondering what exactly he’s done. He’s supposed to be their older brother, the oldest brother. He’s supposed to protect from all of this, isn’t he? Dick wants to be angry with the world for everything it’s done _wrong_ in his siblings’ lives and, yet... Dick can’t find anyone to blame, but himself.

He pushes away at the thought, no matter how forward it presses. Dick can’t escape the same insecurities he’s always had, but right now? It’s not about him. This is about Damian and his transition away from Robin.

Dick finds himself holding Damian tighter, lieu of his thoughts, as if he could block out every other bad thing that may decide to threaten his youngest brother. His embrace stays like that, something stable and grounding, until Damian’s shaking subsides and they’re left with the sound of slow and steady breathing.

“I am Robin. I have only been Robin. I cannot be... I do not know how to be anyone else,” Damian whispers into Dick’s chest.

“I fear no one will want me when I am anyone else.”

At the statement, Dick pushes Damian back, so that they’re eye-to-eye. They’re both looking for something and Dick wonders if Damian’s searching for agreement. He knows when he first _wasn’t_ Robin, all he wanted was for someone to tell him that Bruce messed up, that he still had ownership of his name. Other days, Dick found himself wishing someone would tell him the ever-growing doubt was real, as if confirmation of his short-comings would replace the gravity that seemed amiss between whatever he had left of family.

Dick doesn’t know what Damian wants, but he thinks he knows what Damian needs... Or at least what he needs to know.

He grips both of the younger’s shoulder and pleads that the other will listen when he says, “You are not just Robin. You are Damian Wayne. You are a brother, a son, and a friend. Those are not dependent upon what costume you wear or mask you occupy and I’ll be damned if you sit here believing that isn’t enough!”

Damian shakes his head, “But a hero? How do I be a _hero_ when I am not Robin, now?”

“You do what all Robins do,” Dick advises. “You find a new costume, a new name, and... leave the nest. Being a hero is something that’s a part of you, not the mask you wear or the name you’re called.”

The bird joke gets the smallest reaction out of Damian, and though he would’ve preferred a laugh, the glare works, too.

“Richard, you are not wrong,” the youngest begins, “but what if... What if I wish to _stay_ Robin?”

“What do you mean? I hate to break it to you,” Dick hesitates before continuing, “but Bruce has a tendency to find new Robins and expecting that to change... It’s only setting yourself up to get hurt.”

Damian pulls himself out of Dick’s grip, but moves to a crossed-legs position, facing Dick, “I know. I am not stupid as to think I’d mark the end. I just had the smallest hope that I might be enough. Enough for Father. Alas, maybe I am not and he shall send me away to be replaced and–“

“Hey,” Dick interrupts before Damian can work himself up again. “Don’t think like that. No one is replacing you. I mean when a new Robin comes around, yeah it’ll be painful, but you are not being replaced. There’s a reason we all refer to ourselves as Robins still. We will always need and want you here.”

Damian nods in acknowledgement, “Still, it leaves the concern that I am no longer Robin, and have no one else to be.”

“Well... I mean, as far as I’m aware, he hasn’t found any new children, blood-related or otherwise, so don’t expect a new Robin any time soon,” Dick explains his thoughts. “So, while you will need to look for a name, something you want to go by, I don’t know why you cannot occupy the mantle a little longer.”

He understands, sure, that being Robin can be a burden of its own. Between living with the self-inflicted, but heavy and suffocating, pressure of previous sidekicks and the childish hope that never sticks around, Dick can understand why Bruce might just deem it time for Damian to move on. However, Dick has seen the mistake first-hand, of what forcing Robin from someone else’s hands looks like, and he wishes Bruce would learn not to do that, too. He saw himself grow out of being Robin, saw it in Tim, too, but despite Damian’s age, Dick can’t really recall a moment of wonder towards who Damian would become next. To Dick, Damian _is_ Robin and he can’t see why that can’t remain true, at least a little longer.

“Childishly, I suppose I thought I might get to keep Robin,” Damian interrupts Dick’s thinking.

“We’ve all been thought that at some point,” He reasons.

“Yes, but I had no reason to believe I would get to keep the name. Robin has belonged to four before me, I should not have been so blinded as to think I would get to call it my own,” Damian replies self-depreciatingly.

Dick can barely find the words to fix the misplaced doubt, but vocalises what thought he can, “But, Dami, what Robin hasn’t hoped? Jason? Tim? Steph? Me? We’ve all had the innocence and the hope to pretend for a moment, that despite everything else, we would be _the_ Robin. It doesn’t matter who did or didn’t come before us, hoping to be Robin seems to be a large part of being Robin.”

“Tt,” Damian seems partial to the statement. “You– You present a sound argument. I suppose that... Perhaps, it is why none of us were destined to remain Robin, as well.”

Dick laughs half-heartedly, “Perhaps.”

The youngest nods, seemingly content with the heavy, but mutual agreement, that maybe they have the truth. At least a truth to call their own.

For maybe it’s truly having a bird’s brain, but with all that the paths each Robin has taken differs, all their roads are marked with the same hope; The hope that they mattered enough to _be_ enough. Sure, they all found a place outside of the red, yellow, and green, but at what cost? The time passed that can’t be lived? The trauma that occupies every crevice of their minds? The sleepless nights they can’t make up? The overwhelming pressure to keep being something more, as if they could ever be enough?

It’s a dark truth, and on better days they’ll forget the thought, but maybe wanting to be Robin was the catalyst for their ultimate failure in the role.

Dick shrugs away the thought, though, in priority of focusing upon Damian and his comfort. The two, then, let the meaning settle in the air, as Damian reaches for the remote left on Dick’s coffee table. The cable box reads, “4:01 AM”, and Dick can’t find it in himself to push for Damian to sleep. He isn’t sure he could fall back to sleep, anyways. Instead, both boys position themselves into a more comfortable manner near each other on the sofa, as an animal documentary plays on the screen.

Damian is fully focused, seemingly forgetful of the previous discussion. Dick, as the night has shown, hasn’t been able to get out of his head. He finds himself smiling at Damian’s concentration.

Whether it’s the slight furrow of his eyebrows or the relaxation in his shoulders from the familiarity that exists, Dick finds Damian’s posture reminds him of patrolling. Specifically, of the days of being Batman with Damian as his Robin.

For all that he hated wearing the cowl, Dick can’t find himself regretting it. Not when there was Damian with him. He’ll forever hate the way he hurt Tim and still doesn’t know how to repent for that. He’ll forever despise the drag of the cape and suit, never capable of forgetting the weight of it all.

Damian, though, makes up for a lot.

It’s an odd sort of comfort. Somehow the pain of knowing at some point he once became everything he swore he would never be, is dulled by the knowledge that Damian was his Robin. Dick holds nothing against the others, but he can’t really think of a better Robin for him. For Bruce? Well, it’s debatable upon who was the best of those Robins. Yet, Damian is Dick’s first and, hopefully, only Robin... Something Dick is more than content with because, while he wouldn’t want to be Batman again, he sure as hell wouldn’t so much as think of being Batman again, without Damian as his Robin.

The thought only grows the smile on Dick’s face, as his racing mind finally calms enough for him to understand what’s occurring on the screen. He knows in a few hours the sun will rise and there will be identity crises to handle and the Bat to talk to. Dick knows that between whatever work he has to deal with, his mind will be occupied with concern over whoever the hell Damian decides to be. He knows that it’ll be hard, for everyone, and as per usual, Dick will lack the ability to protect them from the hardships to come. Dick isn’t even sure he’s helped Damian enough tonight, and a familiar sense of doubt crawls from the back of his mind.

Still, he can’t help but reach over and ruffle Damian’s hair, a bright grin contrasting the bags under his eyes, as his brother quickly darts away from his touch.

“Tt. For what possible reason are you so elated?” Damian grumbles, repositioning himself.

Dick laughs, “Just thinking.”

Damian rolls his eyes, “Yes, it would seem so, but what exactly is filling the hollow of your thick skull?”

His smile is unwavering.

“Just that no matter who you decide to be, well, outside of being Damian Wayne,” Dick pauses for a moment.

Damian’s become attentive in the atmosphere Dick’s created and the world is quiet. There seem to no longer be any busy streets or crawling insects. It’s just them and the soft buzz of the television, as if the universe felt the need to add suspense to the rest of Dick’s statement. He laughs to himself at the thought of the universe ever doing something in his favor, but then, he remembers who he’s with. Dick’s grin settles into a softer, genuine smile at the thought, pulling a reluctant Damian in for a hug.

“Whoever you become, you are not alone,” He rests his head upon his brother’s. Dick speaks softly into Damian’s hair as he continues, “And you’ll always be someone.”

“You’ll always be _my_ Robin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This is my first batfam-related fic since like 2013, when I wrote, but never posted, a little Robin-centric thing. I know it’s not my best work, but I’ve recently decided to pick up writing again? I’m not quite sure how long I’ll stick to that, but I’m trying to work on my characterizations and such.
> 
> This has been my interpretation of Dick and Damian, and their relationship. I’m much more familiar with Dick’s character, but I hope I did Damian at least a little bit of justice?
> 
> Plus, this was meant to be part of a longer work encompassing all the Robins and Dick’s interactions with them, but it got a little long and I liked it as is. I don’t know Damian’s future, though a small part of me wonders if maybe he’ll get to keep Robin as his own. I think it could happen.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you all have a wonderful day (:


End file.
